


How Did We Get Here

by SpicedGold



Series: The Nara Family [4]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Introspection, Life is beautiful, Mulling over life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicedGold/pseuds/SpicedGold
Summary: From where we were to where we are now, sometimes the journey gets lost in time and you wake up in a life that you never imagined.They reached a place she never expected, and she couldn't be happier.





	How Did We Get Here

**Author's Note:**

> Because sometimes an anniversary comes around and you have to take a moment to reflect on what a beautiful journey its been, and just how lucky you are to have what you have.

When Temari was ten years old she was fighting for her life in a desert, leaving a trail of blood, her vision hazy with exhaustion and pain, and wondering if life would ever get any better.

When she was twelve, she lived in constant fear of a brother who might go off the rails and kill her without a thought. She had to live day to day in a frenzy of alertness, never dropping her guard, never relaxing, never a moment of peace.

And she wondered if she would ever escape the need to look over her shoulder in her own home.

When she was fifteen the world spun, and things began to be different. She didn’t need to fear every second, she didn’t need to close her eyes at night wondering if she would ever open them again. The desert was still harsh, and life was still tough, and she wouldn’t back away from a challenge, but it made her think that maybe things would get better. Maybe things would change.

And when she saw families playing so carefree and fearless, she wondered if that would ever be hers. If she would ever have a moment in life where there was no fear, no worry, nothing but the quietness of being with the most important people in her life.

But moments like that don’t belong to people like her, and she shoved the thought away, buried the need for it deep down, and fought in a war and battled to survive and ignored the notion that peace would ever be an option.

 

 

She wondered how they got to where they were now.

Because life now was so easy, so simple. Life now had the sun setting across the kitchen while she stared out the window and didn’t wash the dishes because she was enjoying the view too much. And she didn’t need to look over her shoulder because there was no danger there, and anyway, she knew he was staring at her, because he always did when she was standing still and he had the chance to just look.

“You’re home early,” she said eventually, not taking her eyes off the forest outside. A bird shrilled, and the trees swayed gently, and the sun was warm across her body.

“Thought you wouldn’t mind the company.” He came closer, resting his chin on her shoulder, breathing in deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What are you thinking about?”

Life. Peace. Us. The future. Love. The world. “Nothing.”

He didn’t press for more, just nuzzled into her shoulder. She marvelled at how having someone standing at her back didn’t send her into a frantic fury of self-preservation, didn’t make her whip around and fight like a demon. Didn’t awaken any sort of negative emotion at all. How many years had it taken to get to this point? She wasn’t counting, but she knew it was a lot.

Shikamaru tightened his grip on her a fraction, and she could feel him getting ready to ask something. He didn’t get any further than drawing in a breath before a shout rang out across the house.

“Dad!”

Shikamaru sighed, leaning heavily against Temari.

She snorted softly. “He’ll be asleep in an hour.”

“So will I.” Shikamaru kissed her neck before turning around. “What’s up, Shikadai?”

Shikadai came into the kitchen with a frown and handful of papers, his hair tied sloppily off to one side. “I need help.”

Temari turned around as well, eyes narrowing as Shikadai slapped his papers on the kitchen table with a dramatic sigh.

He looked imploringly up at his father. “I’m stuck.”

“What are you doing?” Shikamaru approached the table.

“Algebra,” Shikadai replied with a shrug. When Shikamaru blinked at him, he explained, somewhat snippily, “Shino-sensei says if I do this by tomorrow he’ll let me sleep in class.”

Shikamaru sat down, and Shikadai bypassed sitting next to him in favour of climbing onto his lap instead. He wriggled into a comfortable position, looking smug as Shikamaru held him with an arm around his middle. “Algebra?”

“It’s not class work. It’s extra stuff.” Shikadai explained, arranging papers. “The rest of the class is stupid and takes forever to get things. Shino-sensei says I can’t sleep unless I do more advanced stuff. I finished all the class work. It was easy.” He sniffed. “But I got stuck here.”

He pointed to a specific problem. “And I’m not allowed to use a calculator because that’s cheating.”

“Using your father is the same as using a calculator,” Temari remarked.

Shikadai sent her a look. “It’s not the same, because he’ll show me how to do it.”

“What’s the problem?” Shikamaru asked, blowing Shikadai’s hair out of the way so he could peer over his head at the table.

“I don’t know how to do this one. I’ve done the others.” Shikadai selected a page with various scrawls on it. “I tried figuring it out but I’m not sure how.”

Shikamaru sighed. “Does Shino know you’re eight years old? This is above your level.”

“Apparently I need to ‘challenge myself’,” Shikadai parroted. “Because I’m ‘lazy’.”

“Well,” Shikamaru considered. “Shino isn’t wrong.” He rubbed his eyes. “Okay, show me exactly what you’ve been trying, and tell me why.”

As Shikadai settled into a clipped, uncertain explanation, Temari leant against the counter and just watched him. Watched her son – and sometimes she still can’t quite wrap her head around that because she never imagined she would have one – as he hesitated with his words, pushing back into Shikamaru’s chest when he wasn’t sure what to do next.

Shikamaru listened patiently as Shikadai tried to make sense of what he was saying, occasionally adding in a helpful hint, but mostly encouraging Shikadai to figure it out for himself. And Temari watched, with the sun on her back, and her family in front of her, and she wondered how life had spun this web that allowed her to have so much.

How had she changed from a sullen, angry child to someone who had a loving husband and an intelligent son? Every step, every choice had led to this. From all the fear, and all the war, to this particular moment. This one, soft, singular moment.

 _This is mine_ , she marvelled. _This moment, this life, those boys. They’re mine._

The thought cut in a beautiful and terrible way, so exquisite it was painful.

She felt her throat tighten, and folded her arms across her stomach. Too many emotions welled up at once, too many to deal with, and she tried to swallow them down.

Shikamaru glanced at her, his dark eyes looking searchingly to see what she was feeling, and even while Shikadai prattled on, he offered her a small, gentle smile.

She turned to leave the kitchen, going out the back door to stand on the porch and stare out into the forest. How easy would it have been to miss all this? One wrong move, one different decision, and this entire life could have passed her by. If even one thing had changed, she would have missed it all – all the love, and all the lazy morning kisses, and all the late-night conversations and all the memories and beauty that came with a family.

She could have spent a life alone, she could have spent it never knowing what it was like to love someone with more than your life and soul and heart, she could have gone through her entire shinobi career never thinking twice about taking lives, never giving a care to anyone else in the world, never hearing Shikadai’s first words and seeing him blink those gorgeous jade eyes.

The feelings were bubbling up again, too many to count and too potent to ignore. She raised one hand to her mouth as though to stifle them. Losing all this – the sunlight, the forest, her husband, her son – would have been so easy. So effortless.

Because gaining it had been hard and difficult, had been a challenge beyond what she could have imagined. And if gaining it had been so difficult, so arduous, it stood to reason that losing it would have been easy. Passing it by would have been easy. Her whole life could have gone in a different direction as easily as the wind pulled a leaf in its grasp.

“You okay?” A warm hand closed around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her mouth. Shikamaru pressed himself warmly against her back.

“Yes.”

“You don’t look okay.” He turned her around gently, his expression concerned.

And she was never able to hide things from him. He drew out all her thoughts and inner fears with just a look, and she never had anything she needed to hide from him. And years ago she never would have believed there would ever be someone like that, someone who actually cared, who _wanted_ to know how she felt, and _wanted_ to help. “We might never have happened. This might never have happened. Think about it, there’s no reason we’re together. We could just as easily have gone separate ways.” She dropped her head forward, forehead onto his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

His embrace was familiar and comforting and made the whole world warm and safe. His tender presence made her feel both vulnerable and secure at the same time.

Fuck him, he always knew how to make her feel worseandbetter. She gave in to the rolling emotions and let loose a quiet sob against his shirt. Even that had seemed like an impossible, far-off dream back when she was a stubborn reckless teenager who would die before allowing herself to show weakness to anyone.

Shikamaru didn’t say anything. He held her quietly, waiting until she was still again, before asking, “You’re not pregnant again, are you?”

“No.”

“Just checking.” One of his hands wandered to her hair and pulled softly, the way she liked. “You’re not usually so emotional.”

“I can be whatever I like, you dick.”

“Ah, that’s better. That’s you again.” He kissed her hair.

“Doesn’t Shikadai need your help?”

“He’s managing.”

She pulled back slightly, somewhat embarrassed about feeling the way she did. Especially when there was no reason to – everything was fine. Everything was perfect.

Life was perfect, and that was a little overwhelming.

There was a plaintive wail from inside the house. “Dad! Stuck again!”

Shikamaru snorted softly, raising a hand to wipe a lingering tear from under Temari’s eye. “Coming inside?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’ll stay here a bit longer.”

“Okay.” He tugged her hair one last time. “You know where to find me.”

 

 

Of course she knew where to find him. She had spent years of her life trying to get to him. Trying to find a way to make everything work, to try to amalgamate two lives into one. Trying to find a balance, trying to get from where she had begun to where she was now.

But she had done it. _They_ had done it. They had, somehow, against all odds, found themselves here, now, together, and some days she could hardly believe it.

There were flowers on the table next to her bed.

“You got me flowers?” she questioned, blinking from the doorway.

“Ino would kill me if I didn’t,” Shikamaru shrugged. He pulled his hair loose, giving it a quick shake before flopping into bed.

“That’s true.” Temari studied the flowers. Roses and tulips and she had no idea what else, but knowing Ino everything meant something important. She touched a few of the petals lightly. “Is Shikadai asleep?”

“Yeah.” Shikamaru looked close to being asleep himself. He forced an eye open to watch her. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” Leaving the flowers, she climbed into bed beside him.

He smiled then, finally content, and let his eyes close. “I know I’m supposed to be romantic or something but I’m going to fall asleep in a minute so maybe tomorrow night . . .”

She huffed a bit, but she wasn’t annoyed. He worked hard, she understood that. She had what she wanted – him, and time, and the rest of their lives.

Shikamaru drifted off easily, but sleep was not coming to her. Not with all her thoughts and swirling emotions. Not with all her questions, with all her _thens_ and _nows_.

She stared at the ceiling. She wondered if the future would be as sweet as the present, if everything would continue the way it was.

From fighting to live each day to here.

From sleeping alone every night to here.

From war and hardship to here.

Here, with Shikamaru sleeping soundly beside her, and Shikadai in his room snoring away. Here, where life was calm and serene, and there were no great threats hanging over her. Here, with contentment settled in her chest and calmness in her heart.

All the feelings were coming back, all the ones she had worked so hard to suppress for years until Shikamaru had – without even knowing it – ripped down every wall and every defence and suddenly she was feeling too much and had never regretted it.

Here she was. And maybe she had known that this would be where she ended up, maybe some part of her had longed for this better life, and that was why she hadn’t given up. That was why she had staggered and fought through her childhood, that was why she had dug in her heels and worked for everything she wanted. That was why she hadn’t given up, because she had a future waiting for her.

Now the future was the present, and the place was here and now, and its clarity shocked her.

She rolled towards him, pushing into his space, into his warmth and scent. Automatically, he draped an arm over her.

“Shikamaru?” she whispered, staying close to him.

“Hm?” he acknowledged vaguely.

“Say it again.”

“Didn’t you hear it enough this morning?” he replied drowsily. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, just slid his arms around her more, holding her firmly. He breathed into her hair.

But she wanted to hear it again. She wanted to hear it a dozen times, because some days it still felt unreal. Some days it felt like it wasn’t true, like they hadn’t managed to get to where they were now. “No.”

He sighed heavily, breath hot against her head. “Fine, troublesome woman.”

She felt him shift a bit, fitting her against his body, tracing a vague circle against her back with one thumb.

“Happy anniversary.”

 

 


End file.
